


Stranger

by Torink



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Fluff, M/M, Memories, My boys are hurting, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 20:14:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12239868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torink/pseuds/Torink
Summary: They're both ghosts from past lives, trying to move on, but not able finding the strength to forget. Both find something they weren't looking for, instead, it was something they desperately needed.Song: Stranger, by VHS Collection





	Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I couldn't help myself. Every time I hear this song, which is pretty much everyday, it makes me think of these two. I highly recommend giving this song a listen, it's one of my current favorites. 
> 
> Point of view will switch between the two depending on the verse/chorus, so it won't be entirely random.

_The crimes that we have done_

_Were they anything at all_

_The signs that you would run_

_Were they painted on the wall_

 

Reaper stands in front of the Swiss Headquarters. Rather, what was left of them. No one had bothered to clean up the wreckage, and the cloaked figure could swear it looked the same as he had last saw it. Rubble covered the ground, and a crater near the center of the wreckage called Reapers' name. 

Why was he in Zürich? If you asked him, the response would be strictly business. However, he didn't have to engage with his next target for a few days, so one can only assume. 

Reaper walks through the destruction, silent as one can be, and observes the forgotten land. Any documents that had survived the explosions had melted under the rain, and all that was left were scorched filing cabinets and molded walls, crumpled and lifeless on the ground. He avoids going too close to the crater, opting instead to visit the more intact area of the complex. 

The barracks were not in a much better state; the roof sagged and the drywall had started to deteriorate, but it still stood. Reaper walks through the large, gaping opening where a hallway used to connect. If he were a different man, he would have been surprised that he still remembered where he was going, but he knew better. every single door he passes in the hallway has been kicked down or blown in and as he passes, he's sees that said rooms have been looted of all things valuable. Except for one. 

Reaper stops and nearly growls. His destination had the only intact door. He could tell the door had previously been removed; the hinges were bent and angry, and the handle was mangled. But someone had replaced it. 

Anticipating a fight, with anger bubbling up his throat, he grabs the handle. He sees that smoke is pouring out of his sleeve, but he doesn't care. Shotgun in hand, he shoves the door open, hinges shrieking in protest. Reaper ends up glaring straight into an empty room. Well, mostly empty. 

No living being was currently vacating in the space, but this room was not looted. If anything, it looked taken care of. A dirty mattress sat on a metal frame, sheets and blankets folded at the foot. Pictures were on the walls, paper seemingly pasted onto the rotting surface, and the floor was clear of any debris. It's unsettling, but everything is covered in a thick layer of dust, so whoever had been here had left a while ago. 

Anger still fresh in his mind, Reaper steps forward and inspects the photos. Most are yellowing and worn, some even peeling off the wall. But they all have the same man in them. Each and everyone. 

Gabriel Reyes. 

Reaper barely recognizes him. He doesn't see why he should, the man was a ghost. Gabriel had died in the very explosion Reaper had walked through. The explosion that he had caused. The explosion that made him what he was today. 

Very few of the pictures had just Gabriel in them. Most were with friends, old faces that Reaper had never forgotten. Ana, Reinhardt, even Torbjörn and a young Jesse McCree. But these weren't what made Reaper rip some of the pictures off the wall. Those faces comforted him, even if he knew they would never talk to him again. No, the face that Reaper couldn't stand to look at was one that haunted him day and night. 

The blonde hair and blue eyes, strong jaw and broad nose. Jack Morrison was a reoccurring character in these pictures, most of the time smiling and putting an arm around Gabriel. Every picture with the two was filled with happiness and radiated warmth, but all Reaper could feel was deception and cold. He threw the handle of paper he had grabbed to the ground and glared at them before something caught his eye. 

There was spray paint on the wall behind the photos. Reaper starts to take them all down with more care than he would ever admit, and swallows the sour taste rising in his throat as he sees the bare wall. The paint is red and faded, as if someone had tried to wash it off originally before covering it with memories. The word was written quick and without care, but was legible enough for anyone to understand. 

There, on the wall of Gabriel Reyes' old quarters, was the word 'Traitor'.

 

_The crimes that you had done_

_Were they anything at all_

_The signs that you would run_

_Were they painted on the wall_

 

Soldier: 76 had returned to Zürich. He had been meaning to for the past few months, he would tell you, but he's really been trying to forget. He knows he can't, or that maybe he won't let himself, so here he is again. Without a target and without a deadline, he carries his bag silently as he walks towards the wreckage that had just come into view. He feels a chill at the sight, but shrugs it off as the Swiss air and readjusts his bag on his shoulder. 

It's a familiar sight, but not one that he misses. The rubble and trash is all as he left it, but he's not entirely sure he'd be able to tell if someone had decided to move something for whatever reason. He stops for a moment and looks around, taking in the scene and feeling the weight that has been on his chest for the few months he'd been gone grow. Chiding himself for being overemotional, he continues walking, but finds himself at the edge of the large crater. There's a small puddle in the center, but no rubble or trash lay inside the bare dirt. The man sighs and sits at the edge, setting his gun and bag down and hangs his legs over the edge. 

He knows no one comes by here anymore. The first year after the destruction of the Swiss Headquarters and Overwatch itself had many people visiting the destruction site for many reasons. Some came to pay respects to the fallen, and had left flowers and gifts. Most of the traffic though, had been looters and vandals. Documents were stolen, rooms were raided, and any gifts that had been left were taken by those angry at Overwatch for what it had become. Soldier: 76 had been there the whole time, grieving emotionally and healing himself physically. When he was strong enough to move, he was training and hiding. He ran from any who had gotten too close to his hideout, and was constantly moving around the wreckage until people stopped showing up. Then he adopted his current living space. 

Well, the living space he hadn't used in four months. 

He swings his legs as he remembers first going to the barracks. He was disgusted and disappointed at what people had done to his home. He had never officially lived in the barracks at the Swiss Headquarters, but he was there often enough to the point that everyone had looked for him there, when he was still in charge. What had used to be clean and lively was wrecked and grimy. The room he shared was in the worst condition. The door had been completely destroyed and photos littered the ground, forgotten and stepped on. But what made him the most upset was the word 'Traitor' sprawled across the wall and a uniform on the ground, torn and battered. 

This room was were he would spend his nights at the headquarters. As Strike Commander, he had living quarters in the main building, but he never liked the space. It was too big, too empty. And it was missing him. Gabriel Reyes, no, Gabe had been his best friend officially and to anyone that didn't really know the two. Everyone else, however, knew better. They knew how the pair had tried to keep it a secret, but who can hide that much love from prying eyes? It didn't matter where; on the battle field, in a meeting, walking down the halls together, the two always made it obvious. Whether it was from the too-friendly banter, to the good natured ass slaps, or the constant chatter and smiles. 

That, of course, was before the beginning of the fall. 

Soldier: 76 would do anything to go back then, to fix it all, to prevent any of this from happening. But he knew he couldn't. He had made his choice back then. He had chosen not to listen to Gabe's warnings. He had chosen to turn away when Gabe needed him most. He had chosen to turn a blind eye to what Gabe was doing in Balckwatch to show him what was wrong. He had chosen horribly, but there was nothing for him to do that could change that. 

So, he opted to hunting down those who had corrupted him, who had corrupted Overwatch. There were many higher ups who had a hand in the mix of dirty plays, and it was his goal to hunt down every last one. He remembers that anger that fueled him that night when he found Gabe's room. He remembered the promise he made when he picked up that torn uniform and patched it up, personalizing it for the person he had become. 

Ever since that day, Soldier: 76 has taken down five of the people who had ruined his life and all that he worked for. 

He shakes his head and stands up, tossing his bag over his shoulder and lifting his gun once more. This wasn't the place for recollection and self pity. He had a room to clean up. 

 

_You don't have to_

_You don't have to be a stranger_

_It takes a lonely heart to disappear_

 

Reaper senses the person before he hears them. They're warm and strong, and he can sense their soul through the deteriorating walls. He looks at the pictures scattered on the floor again, and decides he doesn't want to leave just yet. This was probably just another looter anyways, or some dumb idiot deciding to tour the building. As the footsteps grow closer, Reaper turns to smoke and rises to the ceiling. He doesn't want to take any chances and be seen, but he isn't afraid of killing whoever this was if they did happen to see him. He could go for a soul, anyways...

The door knob turns softly and the door opens much more quietly than it did for Reaper. A figure steps in, and Reaper stares at the man, puzzled. The vigilante, Soldier: 76 had just walked into the room and dropped his bag and gun to the ground. His mask emits a low red light in the darkness of the room, and Reaper can hear him sigh before turning around.

Then, things got interesting.

 

  _You don't have to_

_You don't have to be a stranger_

_It takes a lonely heart to disappear_

 

Soldier: 76 can feel himself tense up as he looks at the wall. Those angry red letters glare at him once again, and the photos he had so carefully placed were scattered on the ground. He silently crouches to the ground and picks up some of the photos, looking them over carefully. Some of them are fine, and seem to have been used with care, but any of the with hims- Commander Morrison in them were torn or even crumpled. He almost let's out a low growl before he notices that there is absolutely no dust on any of the photos. Whoever did this... was still here. 

He stands up and glances around the room. Nothing seems out of place. The only thing that was touched were the photos. Odd, why would anyone care about those? What would be the point to take them off the wall and just leave them there? He start to turn to leave the room and look for the intruder, but the cold butt of a gun to the back of his head stops him. 

"What are  _you_ doing here, 76?"

 

_The lines that we had drawn_

_They got easier to cross_

_Sometimes the times are gone_

_Did the feeling just get lost_

 

Reaper growls out the words, but it takes a considerable amount of control for it not to sound confused or surprised. He could tell the other man was tense and confused, but he showed no fear. Impressive, even for someone who had faced Reaper before. 

"I could ask you the same," Soldier's voice is gruff and angry, but he makes no movement to show that he is going to resist. "You don't belong here."

Reaper laughs, cold and dark. "No, I believe I am right where I am supposed to be right now. You're the one who is out of place, old man." He sense the others man growing confusion, but it's nearly covered by the hostility that rises at the nickname. Reaper chuckles at this, and presses the gun a bit harder into the white head of hair to silently remind him who's in charge. 

"You don't even know who's room this was, do you?" The man makes no move, but Reaper feels the growing unrest within him. "You didn't know him like I did. No one did." Soldier: 76 turns around and presses his forehead into the barrel of Reaper's gun, the movement making him growl and pull slightly at the trigger. "If you're here to destroy what was his, you are going to have to go through me."

"What makes you think I won't shoot you right here, right now?" He chuckles darkly, hiding the twist of anxiety in his chest. What was the masked man saying? He knew Gabriel? That was impossible. Everyone he knew had been blown up in the explosion or didn't fit the build of the person before him. He was wrong. 

"I don't. But I'm counting of your confusion."

With those words, the man brings his arm up and knocks Reaper's gun away from his head, and Reaper fires it a second too late. Growling at his own incompetence and the gull of the mystery before him, he digs his claws into Soldier's arms as the white haired man lunges at him, tossing them both to the ground heavily. They roll, and Reaper stops on top and pins the other beneath him. "Who. Are. You." The words are like fire, and the smoke leaking from his mask only accents the ferocity in his voice. 

Soldier is unfazed by both his words and the proximity of their faces. "I'm a ghost from my own past, come back to haunt those who destroyed everything I cared for. Those who killed the only one I ever loved." His voice is strong but Reaper can hear a soft edge to it. He doesn't know what to think, so he digs his claws into Soldier's arms even more. He doesn't even flinch. 

"Doesn't answer my question, grandpa." He pauses for a moment, before grabbing 76's wrists and putting them together, holding them above his head with one hand. He can tell the man knows what he is about to do, and he starts to resist, but Reaper's grip is too strong, and he's cheating a bit by using tentacles of smoke to hold him in place. "If you won't answer me, then I'll find the answers myself."

 

_The lines that we had drawn_

_Did they get easier to cross_

_Sometimes the times are gone_

_Did the feeling just get lost_

 

Soldier: 76 didn't expect this. Why would he? Reaper had no business being here, and had no reason to be interested in his personal motives. But that wasn't what was bothering him the most. 

He could tell Reaper was going to take of his mask before he even started moving. The thought made his heart race with anxiety, but if he could get away from Reaper once, maybe he could kill him this time. His identity needed to stay hidden. He needed to finish his work. 

His struggling made no difference. Reaper was too strong, and Soldier: 76 needed his energy so he stopped resisting. He felt the claws of the other's glove dig into the crack on the side of his mask before hearing a hiss and feeling cold air on his face. He fought to keep a blank expression, staring straight into Reaper's mask when the visor was completely away from his skin. 

He doesn't know what to do. It feels like five minutes have past since his mask was removed, and Reaper hasn't said anything to him yet. Soldier furrows his brows and glares up into the mask. "What? Something on my face?"

Reaper grunts and dissipates into smoke suddenly, releasing him and moving away. Soldier: 76 is now incredibly confused, and a bit anxious. He yells at the clouded figure, trying to sound angry. "Hey, what the fuck? What was that for?"

He goes to run after Reaper, but stops himself when Reaper solidifies again in front of him. "You can't be him." Soldier is taken aback. Reaper's voice is... soft. He's heard it before, he knows he has, if he could only recall...

He's lost in thought for a second and isn't expecting to be thrown against the wall. His head makes a dent in the crumbling drywall and he hisses as Reaper pins him again. "You can't be him! He died, along with Gabriel. I killed him, I saw his last moments, you can't be him!" There's a new anger in Reaper's voice, one he has never heard before. So many emotions flow through him; pain, anger, confusion, unease, and he's unsure on how to feel. 

"Who am I?" He asks in a stern voice, staring into Reaper's unchanging mask. When he gets no response, he slowly lifts him hand up to the hood covering the figure's head. When he feels Reaper tense, he clicks his tongue. "Only fair, asshole." His mind is screaming at him not to, that he won't like what he sees. But he doesn't care. He needs to know, and he pulls down the hood, moving the mask off of the other's face in the same motion. 

He's Jack again in that moment. It's his first day at the SEP, and all the new recruits are lined up in front of the older members. They're pairing off people, and Jack greets Reyes for the first time. They're partners. But Jack can't get over how beautiful the man in front of him looks. He chides himself and pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind as his new partner calls him something in spanish (chico di oro?) and shakes his hand. 

He's now a few months into the SEP and has an uncommonly rough set of injections. He's curled on their shared couch and shivering, despite being covered in sweat and a blanket. He's too out of it to be completely sure he is lucid, but he swears he sees Gabe standing in his room's doorway. The man says something before crouching in front of him, looking into his eyes. Gabe looks truly worried, but he doesn't understand why. If he can't handle the injections, he'll just get kicked out, it doesn't affect Gabe at all. He'll just get a new partner. Jack didn't notice Gabe leave, but he wakes up (he fell asleep?) to Gabe carrying him to Jack's room. He's set down in his bed gently, and he notices a mug of tea on his bedside table. Jack murmurs thank you, but it comes out as "Don't leave." Gabe looks at him and shakes his head, sitting beside him on the bed and ruffling Jack's hair. "I'm not going anywhere, mi sol," is all he hears before sleep takes him again. 

It's now been about a year since Jack joined the SEP, and Gabe just stormed into their room. Jack jumps slightly, turning his attention away from the old movie and to his partner. He asks if Gabe's alright, but he only gets a huff in return. Gabe is just standing there, in front of the door, staring at the wall. Jack gets up and walks over, carefully putting a hand on his shoulder. Gabe looks at him with something he's never seen before, and he swears he sees tears, before he's suddenly pressed against the wall. It takes him a second to realize that Gabe's lips are on his, but as quickly as they were there, Gabe pulls back and looks at the ground, apologizing. Not letting him get away, Jack pulls Gabe back in for another kiss, making sure his partner knows that it was no mistake. Gabe would later tell him that they had tried to transfer him to another partner, and that he fought tooth and nail to keep him there. 

They're in Overwatch. They're both commanders. It's late at night, and Jack is doing paperwork. He glances up and sees Gabe in the doorway to the office and smiles at him. Gabe smiles back and walks in, sitting on the edge of the desk. Jack puts down his work and talks to his partner, and he realizes for possibly the first time how hopefully in love he is. He has never felt more at home, more loved, than he does now, in this moment, under the eyes of Gabriel Reyes. 

 

_You don't have to_

_You don't have to be a stranger_

_It takes a lonely heart to disappear_

 

Gabe is looking down at Jack, and he wants to do nothing else than to wipe those tears away, but something is holding him back. Despite the overwhelming feeling of relief and love, he's still angry. He can feel smoke leaking from his skin, and he pushes Jack harder into the wall. 

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. "No, I lied. I didn't kill him. You did, Jack."

Jack's face is unchanging, but Gabe can see in his eyes that he's reliving memories and wants to do nothing more than hold him in his arms. He mumbles something, closing his eyes and bowing his head slightly. 

Gabe shakes him and growls, "Speak so I can hear you."

"I'm sorry, Gabe."

The words are soft, almost unheard again. But that's all it does to break him. 

 

_You don't have to_

_You don't have to be a stranger_

_It takes a lonely heart to disappear_

 

Jack doesn't have to think about responding when Gabe wraps his arms around him. It's tight, almost painful, but he welcomes the feeling completely. He's back. They both are. 

Gabe's breaths are shaky and short, and Jack can tell he's on the verge of tears. He just holds him close and digs his face into the leather-clad shoulder. He doesn't want to move, for fear of Gabe pushing him away again. 

"I'm so sorry, Gabe," he whispers again. "I should have trusted you. You were right, you were right..."

"Shut up." He hears the soft voice whisper right into his ear before he's picked up and Gabe sits on the bed, Jack on his lap still hugging him close. 

Jack pulls away slightly and puts a hand on the side of Gabe's face. "We have to talk about this though," he says, rubbing his thumb against the short beard. His blue eyes stare deeply into Gabe's and he feels himself get lost as the two of them just enjoy each others company. 

"I know. I'm just trying to put it off for a little," Gabe huffs and presses his forehead against Jack's, making him smile. They could stay here for a while. The world could wait. 

 

_You got to get it all out_

_You got to get it out_

_It takes a lonely heart to disappear_

 

The two men were an odd sight to see. The small bed creaked under neath them if they attempted to move, and the room smelled of dust and sweat, but neither of them minded. To them, nothing mattered more in this room besides each other. 

Photos of times come and past lay scattered at their feet. A red reminder of what they had done was scrawled on the wall. Their respective guns lay discarded on the ground, worn from use. The masks were thoughtlessly placed on the small bedside table. But none of it mattered. 

They weren't Soldier: 76 and Reaper in this moment. 

For the first time in a long time, they were home. 

 

_It takes a lonely heart to disappear_

  
_It takes a lonely heart to disappear_

**Author's Note:**

> And they got a sappy ending. Yay!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment down below, I'd love to hear your thoughts.


End file.
